


Parlez-vous Français

by emilyevanston



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crushes, F/M, Fluff, Languages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 08:46:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12602768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyevanston/pseuds/emilyevanston
Summary: Steve and Bucky like to hold private conversations in front of everyone in French.  Turns out, you understand them perfectly.





	Parlez-vous Français

Bucky and Steve both speak French.  They didn’t learn it at school.  Rather it was something they picked up while they were serving in Europe during World War II.  Now they use it to hold private conversations in front of everybody else.  It didn’t work if Natasha was around.  She was fluent herself. Anyone else though, they’d just start chatting away disregarding the murderous looks from the others completely.  They mostly speak about missions or things from when they were kids.  Bucky sometimes speaks about Natasha.  Sometimes he tells Steve how much he likes when Sam snarks at him.  Or how Clint plays ‘look at the trick Steve taught me’.

Steve talks about how he wishes Bucky and Sam would stop acting like children around him.  How he wishes people would stop using Cap as a nickname for him.  How he wants to go back to Coney Island but he’s worried it will have changed too much.

You knew all this because you speak French fluently.  Occasionally you feel bad for not telling them.  You wouldn’t go and stand at the door to Steve’s room or office hoping to hear them.  But at the same time, you think it serves them right for assuming that you didn’t understand them and for not just leaving the room to have private conversations.  Partly you just like hearing them talk like they would when they think no one is listening.

You never gossiped with the others on what they said.  You never filed it away to use against them.  You just sit and listen and practice your poker face.  Sometimes feeling the pull to join in but never actually doing so.  The truth was you really like Steve.  Not just like.  You want to go to bed with him at night and wake up with him in the morning.  You want to have him hold you in those amazing arms of his.  To run your fingers through his hair while you look into those blue eyes of his.  You want to have him whisper to you in French about how he can’t keep his hands off you.  To have his lips pressed against yours, his tongue teasing your lips open.  To have his tongue touch down elsewhere.  For him to be the reasons for your orgasms, and for you to be the reason for his. You want to stay up late talking about what you did that day.  What you had planned for tomorrow.  What you were planning to name your children.  You want to make love and to fuck and to wake up and make him breakfast.

But you said nothing and did nothing and let them think their private conversations were private.

That was until you came into the common area to make coffee and heard Steve talking about a girl.  He’d never done that before.  You listened carefully as you tried to hide that that’s what you were doing.  You had to consciously go through each step.  Trying to keep your emotions in check.

_Pour coffee._

_Add Creamer._

_Don’t look over and listen to how smitten he sounds._

_Forget that tight feeling in your chest when he mentions how he can’t stop thinking about her._

_How he admires how strong she is._

_But that she has a soft side that he was a little in love with._

_Keep moving.  Act natural._

_Forget how he was just talking about how her smile made his heart skip a beat._

_Ignore that pit in your stomach._

You manage to make the coffee and start to walk to your room when you hear your name.  You turn back in case they said it to catch your attention.  They didn’t; they’re still talking about the girl Steve likes.  Slowly it dawns on you.  They’re actually talking about you.

“Elle est mignonne, celle-là; tu trouves pas?”  Steve says.  He thinks you’re cute.  Steve Rogers.  The guy who science gave the perfect body to thinks you’re cute.  Your jaw drops open.

“Demande-lui si elle a envie de sortir avec toi.”  Bucky says.  Bucky Barnes - the Winter Soldier just told Steve Rogers - Captain America to ask you out.

Your grip lets go of your coffee and it falls on the floor with a clatter, splashing on the floor.  “Fuck!”  You shout.

Steve and Bucky jump up.  “You okay, doll?”  Bucky asks.

You open your mouth, close it again, look to the door and then back to them.  “Tu devrais vraiment me le demander.”

Both Bucky and Steve freeze, halfway between standing and sitting.  They stare at you open-mouthed and eyes wide.  “You should ask me out.”  You repeat in English.

“Y-You - you speak French?”  Steve stutters.

“Oui.  Je parle Français.”  You reply.

“H-how long for?”  Steve asks.

“I don’t remember ever not speaking French.”  You answer.

“So all this time?”

“I could understand what you both said?  Yes.”  You answer.

Bucky breaks down into hysterical laughter.  “You’re evil.”  He wheezes.

Steve silently starts to move.  He goes into the kitchen, gets a cloth and comes back starting to clean up as you stand there feeling like an idiot.  

“Steve?”  You say, quietly.

Steve doesn’t look up, he just keeps cleaning.  “Do you want to get dinner?”  He says, quietly.

A smile breaks out on your face.  “Yes please.”

“Tonight?”  Steve asks.

“Yeah, I think there’s a French place near here.”  You suggest.

Steve stands and tosses the cloth back into the kitchen.  It lands in the sink and he turns to face you.  “Parfait.”  He says.

He leans down and brings his lips to yours.  It’s soft and his lips are barely parted.  You reach up and wrap your arms around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss.  Your tongues meet briefly and you pull back, sucking at his bottom lip with a hum.  “So I’ll meet you downstairs at seven?”

“Sept heures.”  Steve says with a smirk.

You chuckle and let him go.  “Sept heures.”  You agree and spin around heading to your room to get ready.


End file.
